


Unfaithfully Yours

by EmerySaks7



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cartinelli - Freeform, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:11:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5051467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmerySaks7/pseuds/EmerySaks7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1959 and Peggy Carter and Angie Martinelli have been together for almost 12 years, but infidelity hovers on the horizon as Peggy focuses more on her work life and less on the things that matter most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collaborative effort by the lovely @sarah_dude aka @delightfullyambiguous and myself. She is an amazing writer, and I'm thrilled to be writing this with her. 
> 
> Much love to @cassiopeiasara for her beta skills and invaluable insights that have helped make this story so much more!

_1959_

It had been eight years since Howard Stark convinced Peggy Carter to walk away from the Scientific Strategic Reserve and head up his new agency, the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.

Leave it to Howard to found a new agency so soon after the Central Intelligence Agency was established but, truth be told, it hadn’t taken too much convincing for Peggy to come aboard and, with Angie’s blessing, she’d traded in her SSR agent title for that of Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.

The two had been together since 1947 and in 1949, Peggy had given Angie her grandmother’s ring, officially acknowledging their union as she slid it on the ring finger of Angie’s right hand. Angie had worn it ever since, and between the two of them, they privately agreed that, for all intents and purposes, they were married.

Only a select handful of those closest to them were made aware – Howard, Edwin and Anna and Peggy's younger brother, Harrison. As much as it pained Angie, she reluctantly heeded Peggy's advice that it was better for her family to have suspicions and still be welcomed at the Christmas table, rather than confirm them and lose all contact with her parents and siblings.

For the last nine years, the two lived their lives, seemingly free of the trials and tribulations of marriage with which Peggy so often watched her agents succumb. But as things began to heat up internationally the last six months, Peggy found herself spending more and more evenings at the office. Lately, she’d even taken to sleeping on her couch and dragging into the apartment two or three days later with only a quick phone call to Angie to let her know where she was so Angie wouldn’t worry.  
At first, Angie constantly assured Peggy that she understood, she had even laughed and said she knew what she was getting into when she made the commitment to be with Peggy. But after three months of missed dinners, fleeting phone calls and a distracted partner, even Peggy could sense Angie’s burgeoning frustration with her.  
She should have known that missing their ten year anniversary – a date they celebrated ever since Angie agreed to wear Peggy’s ring – would not sit well. Peggy could almost picture Angie wearing the new dress she’d purchased especially for the occasion when she’d called her from the office and told her she was going to be a few minutes late. She’d sensed the tension in Angie’s tone, but she assured her she’d be there. She simply needed to place one more call from their European office and she’d leave in fifteen minutes.

Unfortunately, fifteen minutes had morphed into an all-nighter as she fielded calls from various heads of state, aptly concerned over weapons being moved by the Soviet Union. By the time she finally managed to leave, she was exhausted. Her fatigue was somewhat lessened by the knowledge that she would be boarding a plane to Europe in less than five hours. Although she knew she could – and probably should – send one of her agents to do the job, Peggy had informed the President she’d take the mission herself. ‘To get it done properly’, she had told Howard. When he had rolled his eyes and muttered a comment about aging agents and their need to relive the glory days, she’d thrown a nearby paperweight at him, effectively ending the conversation.  
When Peggy entered their bedroom, she was disappointed, but not surprised, to find the flowers she had Jarvis deliver unceremoniously dumped in a nearby trash bin, the new gown lay crumpled across the back of the chair near their bed.

She grimaced.

It wasn’t like Angie to be so careless with something so exquisite. Quietly padding to the bed, she looked at the woman in question just as she shifted beneath the sheets, and Peggy was startled to realize Angie wasn’t wearing anything.

It had been some time since Angie had gone to bed unclothed and, despite her fatigue, Peggy felt the familiar arousal coil tightly inside her.

Unbuttoning her jacket, Peggy removed it and carefully draped it over it over the chair and retrieved Angie’s gown. She smoothed it out and laid it next to her jacket before sitting on the edge of the bed.   
With a soft sigh, she brought a hand to Angie’s hair and gently stroked it, luxuriating in the softness. A pang of regret coursed through her and she leaned down and placed a gentle kiss against Angie’s forehead.   
“I’m sorry for missing our anniversary last night,” she whispered against her skin.   
“Good morning to you, too,” came the soft reply, and Peggy drew back, surprised to see Angie staring at her.   
“I thought you were sleeping.”  
“I heard the door close downstairs.”  
“Sorry.”  
Angie shook her head. “It needs to be fixed. It’s been slamming when I close it, too.”  
“Ah.”  
There was a moment of silence before Angie reached up and threaded her fingers through Peggy’s hair, pulling her closer.   
Without thinking, Peggy lowered her head and began slowly kissing her along Angie’s collarbone, taking time to lavish attention on her warm skin.   
“I’m sorry,” Peggy murmured into her shoulder between kisses, relieved to find no trace of anger in Angie’s voice.   
“I know,” Angie nodded. She captured Peggy’s lips in a kiss. “Don’t think we won’t talk more about this later mind you,” she told her before reaching down and guiding Peggy’s hand to her waist. “But right now, I’m gonna need to see some genuine remorse, Director Carter.”   
Peggy grinned and lowered her head to Angie’s breast even as her hand began tracing soft patterns against her hip. “Who am I to argue?” she teased, taking the soft underside of Angie’s breast between her teeth and lightly scraped, teasing her in the way she knew drove her wild.   
Angie let out a high breathy groan and Peggy bit down harder in reaction, being careful not to leave a mark, licking in penance when she pulled away and saw the indents she left behind.   
She stood, abruptly, and unbuttoned her trousers, stepping out of them and leaving them as a pile on the floor and she moved to straddle Angie.   
“Hi.” She breathed, before she leant back down to kiss her, enjoying the leverage her new position granted her. Her push-up count had greatly improved throughout the years, mainly thanks to having the motivation of Angie laying between her arms in moments like this.

She shifted her weight onto one hand, and let the other drift down to stroke her thumb across Angie’s rib cage and Peggy smiled in satisfaction when she felt Angie moan vibrate through her chest before trailing her thumb across to circle Angie’s nipple.   
She dipped her head down to kiss along Angie’s jaw, down her neck and across her collarbone, her lips trailing down in a slow meandering path, stopping to kiss and lavish her favourite areas on her body, making Angie writhe beneath her. As she began to shift downward, she muttered apologies against Angie’s smooth stomach and Peggy felt her shift beneath her again. She continued her path downwards and when her lips trailed over the dark matted curls between her legs she found Angie already wet. Soft fingers threaded through her hair, tugging her closer and then Peggy was lost in sensation, trying to communicate in the best way she knew how, through action; licking, tasting, teasing yet again until Angie’s hips lifted from their bed.   
Peggy glanced up and grinned at her before she lowered her mouth back down and renewed her efforts. Angie’s encouraging sighs and moans were a potent combination, and the fingers that had tangled in her hair left to shoot out to her sides and twist in the sheets. Peggy reached out to cover Angie’s hand where it had grasped the bedding as she continued to kiss and suck. Angie’s body shuddered and tensed and Peggy drew the moment out for as long as she could, until Angie’s back inevitably fell back against the damp sheets while she whispered Peggy’s name over and over as her body shuddered through the aftershocks. 

Peggy pulled back and winced as she shifted her weight on her knees. Wiping the back of her hand against her mouth, she found Angie watching her with hooded eyes and a sated smile. Crawling back up the length of her body, she captured Angie’s lips in a searing kiss. When she finally released her, Peggy gazed at her with a penitent expression.

“I’m sorry I missed last night, darling. Truly, I am.”

Angie pulled her closer, burying her face in Peggy’s neck as she clung to her. “I’ve missed you,” she murmured.

“I can’t stay though,” Peggy whispered without preamble. She winced at the blunt delivery and took in a deep breath when she felt Angie pull away. She could’ve handled that better. In the past, she would have. Blaming her exhaustion, Peggy glanced up to find Angie staring at her with incredulous eyes, her shock was easily discernible.

“What?”

Peggy sat up and rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. “They’re sending me to Russia.”

“You’re the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. I thought you sent people on missions not the other way around.”

There was a steely edge in Angie’s tone and Peggy found she had no response to her rather accurate statement.

Angie’s eyes hardened and she pulled the sheets up around her. “For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Angie scoffed. “So _this_ ,” she spat, gesturing between them, “What, you decided to work in one last hurrah before you headed off on your next grand adventure?”

Peggy stared at her in shock. “What? No! That’s not what this was.”

“Sure feels like it.”

Standing up, Peggy stalked to the closet and pulled out a bag.

Angie moved from the bed to stand behind her, her body still flushed from Peggy’s ministrations. “You can't even come up with a response," Angie seethed.

“What’s gotten into you?” Peggy snapped.

“Me? I’m not the one who spends _all,_ her time at the office, day in and day out. I’m not the one who’s missing dinners.” Angie folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not the one who missed our ten year anniversary. I waited up, you know.”

Peggy winced. “I’m sorry, Angie. I–”

“You’re always sorry, Peggy, but nothing ever changes. So much for you remorse.”

“What do you want me to say?” Peggy countered as she continued to pack her bag. “You knew what you were signing up for all those years ago.” Impatience threaded her tone. “If you had a problem, you should’ve spoken up sooner. God knows you tell me about everything else I do wrong.” 

Angie crossed her arms and gave her a steely look. “Yeah, well maybe if I had known all the facts, I would’ve made different choices.”

The words hit Peggy like a blow to the stomach, and she started at the blunt statement from the woman she loved. Peggy had always prided herself at projecting a tough exterior, but Angie had always been her weakness. Bristling, she stuffed a pair of trousers into her bag before turning an icy glare on Angie.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Peggy said, her voice dark.

“Nothing to talk about, _Margaret,_.”

She watched Angie turn and stalk into the bathroom, slamming the door closed.  
Peggy contemplated going after and making a last-ditch effort to clear the air between them, but in the end, she simply stared at the door. There was no talking to Angie when she was upset. Twelve years with the woman had taught her that.

Shaking her head in frustration, Peggy grabbed her bag and left the room, the stony silence followed her as the door shut behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the continuation of a story that Sarah_Dude and I began working on a few years ago. She gave me her blessing to continue it and even suggested I take her name off it as I continue to finish it. However, I cannot, in good conscience do that. Everything in this story was discussed by the both of us along with the talented Cassiopeiasara, and I can't claim credit for it. Without these two ladies, it wouldn't exist. So, if you like what you read, please do let these two wonderful writers know.

It’d been two weeks since Peggy had departed and Angie had been left fuming.

One week had helped her cool off a bit, so Angie finally sat down one evening and decided to write Peggy. After all, she had news to tell her. A mere three days after Peggy had left, she’d gotten the call that she’d been cast in the chorus of the off-Broadway production she’d auditioned for four weeks ago. Angie had pretty much resigned herself that she’d never make it big, but she had made a career out of being a chorus member and more importantly, she enjoyed it. She still got a thrill every time the curtain went up and the lights shone brightly on her. She wished Peggy could be there to see her on stage. She sighed, picked up her pen and began to write.

_Dear English,_

_You’ll never believe it, but remember that play I auditioned for a few weeks ago? The one I’d pretty much given up on? Well they called me on Friday and told me they wanted me for the chorus. It’s a good show, and I think it’ll be a lot of fun. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get back in time to see me perform. I know you can’t tell me much when you go on these missions, but I’ll keep my fingers crossed that this is a quick one and you’re home soon, safe and sound._

Angie paused and pressed the end of the pen against her lips. She wasn’t quite sure how to continue. After all, how did you say you’re sorry for sort of telling someone you wished you hadn’t practically married them? Taking a deep breath, she decided to simply plunge ahead and hope for the best.

_Boy, did we make a mess of things. I won’t apologize for being upset at you for missing our anniversary. You were in the wrong for that, but I guess I could’ve probably handled it better on my end. Anyhow, I am sorry for the harsh words I threw at you when you left. I wish I hadn’t said some of those things – especially that I might have rethought my decision to be with you._

_Peggy, I am glad we’re together, but I feel like we’ve been drifting apart these last few months, and I don’t know why. I want us to fix that, but I’m not quite sure how. What I do know is I love you._

_Come home soon, English. I miss you._

_I miss us._

_All my love,  
Angie_

***

Peggy Carter had been in godforsaken Sibera for almost five weeks before finally getting a chance to catch her breath and enter into a small town that bore some semblance of civilization. After managing to catch a few hours of sleep and take an honest-to-God shower with water that could almost be called warm, she’d headed to what passed as the mess hall, gotten some real food in her and managed to get an outside line to the States. 

She was frustrated that she hadn’t heard a peep from Angie. Peggy briefly wondered if Angie had decided to give her the silent treatment. She bristled at the thought, but then quickly deflated, acknowledging that if she were, she most decidedly deserved it. Peggy had forgotten their anniversary and handled the aftermath rather poorly. She didn’t blame Angie for being upset. At least, she didn’t blame her now. Besides, there was a good possibility Angie had written her and the mail simply hadn’t caught up to her yet. After all, she never seemed to stay in the same place for more than a few days. 

_One of the stellar perks of working for S.H.I.E.L.D_ , Peggy reminded herself. 

After lifting the receiver and giving the operator the familiar number for her New York City apartment, Peggy waited, knowing the line had to cross several times until was deemed secure. A few minutes later, the line filled with the crackle of static, and then she heard the familiar ring on the other end of the line. 

_Ring._

_Ring._

After the tenth ring, Peggy began running through all the possibilities of why Angie wasn’t answering the phone. Setting the instant dire thoughts that she’d been taken hostage - _honestly did her mind always have to go there first?_ \- Peggy considered that perhaps Angie had gotten the show she’d auditioned shortly before Peggy had absconded to Russia. 

When it became obvious that nobody was going to pick up, Peggy reluctantly returned the receiver to the box, effectively ending the call. Frustration coursed through her, even more so than earlier.

With all their constant moving in and out of the field, God only knew when she’d have another chance to try and reach Angie. And if Angie was still upset with her, that time that would only work against Peggy and make things more difficult than they already were.

She sighed and stood up, shoving her mittened hands in her pocket and bracing herself for the bitter cold. As she trudged back to her room, she bitterly wondered why she’d ever chosen to allow herself to love again. 

***

Angie dropped her key on the kitchen counter and plopped into a chair. Her dogs were barking, her throat scratchy, and she could’ve done without the sudden downpour that began only two blocks before she reached the apartment. She needed to get out of her wet clothes, but first, true to form, she sifted through the mail she’d grabbed from the hallway table on her way in and looked for the familiar handwriting she’d been missing for the last month and a half.

A sigh fell from her lips when she realized – yet again – there was no letter from Peggy. Shoulders dropping, she stood and made her way upstairs to their bedroom, trudging into the bathroom and stripping off her clothes. A moment later, she stood naked under the spray of hot water and closed her eyes in relief. The methodical pelting against her shoulder blades felt wonderful. Angie imagined she could feel the tension melting off her body and swirling away as it disappeared down the drain. When she finally turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, she felt loads better. It was amazing what a little bit of hot water could do for a girl. 

Wrapping a terry cloth robe around her, Angie made her way to the small desk that nestled against the wall of their bedroom. She sat down and reached into a drawer for a clean piece of paper and retrieved a pen from the tiny jar that set next to the mirror. She stared at her reflection and wasn’t surprised to see a tiny frown furrowed between her eyebrows.

It’s been more than a month since she’d written Peggy, and she’d heard nothing from her. No letter. No phone call. Angie knew there was a good chance Peggy hadn’t been anywhere near civilization to make a call or post a letter, but it didn’t make the communication silence any less painful.

Still, Angie decided she’d write again. At least if Peggy was able to receive letters, she’d know Angie was thinking about her and missing her. Angie’s heart tightened and a brief flash of pain lanced through her as she wondered if Peggy missed her, as well.

“Can’t think like that, Angie,” she scolded herself aloud. “She’s just busy. Behind enemy lines and all that idiotic saving the world crap.”

She sighed and began writing.

_Dear Peggy,_

_It’s Saturday night and we’re smack dab in the middle of a downpour. Silly me got caught in it on the way home, and I’ll be lucky if I don’t come down with pneumonia because of it!_

_Anyhow, I haven’t heard from you, so I figure you’re somewhere top secret, protecting the good old US of A and keeping all of us safe. You big knucklehead._

_If you got my last letter, you’ll know I’ve been performing in the show I was so convinced I didn’t get. Well, good news! One of the principals came down with the croup (not so good for them, but it worked out well for me) and since I knew all their lines, I got tapped to step into the role. Can you believe it? My first real role in a Broadway show. Okay, so it’s off-Broadway, but I don’t care. It’s a role, and my name is in the Playbill. Take that, Arlene French!_

_One of the perks about that role is now I’m stepping out with some of the dancers and cast after the show a few nights every week. It’s really nice, Pegs. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that, what with our lives and S.H.I.E.L.D. and the need for secrecy. Don’t worry – I’m not spilling the beans on any of your top secret missions. We mostly talk about the show and who’s sleeping with who in the show. Stop frowning at me. Gossip is an integral part of theatre life. Besides, I’ve heard you and Howard before, so it’s not just me!_

_I should keep this short. I know you don’t get much free time when you’re out in the field. But I miss you. Stay warm and call me when you can. Come home soon, English._

_Love,  
Angie_


	3. Chapter 3

Peggy Carter had been in and out of the field for two months, with no communication to the outside world, moving from location to location at a moment’s notice, so when word came that they were finally getting a chance for some well deserved, if rather brief R&R, she was elated. 

The Howling Commandos had trudged into the makeshift camp in the middle of nowhere shortly after 11 p.m., exhausted, cold, and practically sleepwalking after being awake four days straight with little to no sleep. Peggy hadn’t even bothered to do more than take off her boots before falling into the closest cot. It didn’t matter that it was hard and smelled of mold. The moment her head hit the pillow, she was gone. 

Twelve hours later, she awoke, more alert than she’d been in days. The water wasn’t as hot as Peggy preferred, but it was warm, it was clean and she was delighted to wash the grime away from what seemed like every crevice of her body. After eating a generous helping of everything that wasn’t a C-ration, she walked across camp harboring an irrational hope that her mail might have finally arrived at camp the same time she did. 

Her breath caught in her throat when the postmaster handed her two envelopes with her name written in all-too-familiar scrawl. Trepidation and happiness warred within her as she walked back to her cot. On one hand, she was beyond thrilled that she had received anything from Angie, because for the first time in their relationship, Peggy was truly worried that she and Angie might have finally stumbled into an area they couldn’t resolve. 

Peggy knew eight weeks without any contact from the woman she loved had begun to take its toll on her mentally, emotionally and physically. Sleepless nights were almost a relief to the few nights she’d been able to doze, because as soon as her eyes closed and she began to drift off, she was plagued with images of Angie staring at her with stricken eyes which then morphed into Angie seething at her with anger. In her dreams, the anger transformed into cold disdain and she would watch - helplessly - as Angie packed her belongings into a suitcase and disappeared into the night despite Peggy’s hoarse pleas for her to stay. 

That moment always ended with Peggy bolting up from where she lay, a hand clutched at her tight chest and her body covered in a cold sweat. Trying to fall back to sleep after those dreams was near impossible. 

Oh, she had tried to hide behind her fierce Director’s facade, but Peggy knew she was distracted, knew she was a liability with those distractions, and even worse, knew she was solely to blame for all of it. 

With trembling hands - she cursed aloud as her nerves betrayed her and was grateful nobody was nearby to see such a blatant display of insecurity - she opened the envelope and unfolded the letter contained inside. 

As she slowly read it, relief coursed through Peggy. Angie’s words seemed to seep from the page and into Peggy’s very being. Angie still loved her. She wanted to be with her. Peggy’s heart constricted, and she felt the dread that had haunted her begin to fade away. Angie didn’t want a divorce. She wasn’t sorry she’d married her. But she knew her lover’s words of recrimination were also true. They _had_ been drifting apart, and Peggy realized that she carried a large share of the blame for that. But these two months apart from Angie had allowed her to do a lot of soul searching, and Peggy knew she was ready to do whatever it took to repair the damage she caused to the most important relationship in her life. 

Angie’s second letter was shorter than her first, and pride surged through Peggy when Angie wrote about a larger role. She could practically feel her lover’s happiness radiating from the page. The moment was short-lived, though, when she read Angie’s inadvertent confession of how much she’d missed the theatre’s social scene. A pang of guilt washed over Peggy. Angie had missed out on that because of her. Remorse filled her as she realized just how much Angie had sacrificed for Peggy in order to keep her career secret. Angie craved that contact - needed that contact in order to further her career, and Peggy knew she’d been selfish - in the name of security, yes, but selfish nonetheless - in denying Angie that. It hadn’t been fair, and Peggy resolved then and there to taking Angie out on the town more a priority upon her return. 

_God, she missed her_. She needed to hear Angie’s voice. She needed to tell how much she loved her. How sorry she was. That she was ready to do whatever it took to make things right between them. 

She needed to find a phone. 

Folding up the letter and carefully placing them in her knapsack, Peggy trudged back into the open until she found Sergeant Major Morita sitting near a fire. It didn’t take much to persuade to crank up the EE-8 and within ten minutes, Peggy had the receiver pressed to hear, listening to the line ring over and over without answer. A small part of her was sorry that she’d wake Angie - after it all, it was just after 3 a.m. in New York City, but Peggy knew she had to talk to her and let her know she felt the same way. 

As the phone continued to ring, a flicker of concern passed through Peggy. It wasn’t like Angie to not answer, even at such a late hour. She briefly remembered Angie’s comment about going out after performances, but _it was 3 a.m._

When the military operator finally cut in and asked if she wanted to continued to try, Peggy sighed and regretfully closed the line. As she made her way back to her cot, Peggy chewed on her lower lip, lost in thought. 

_Perhaps she’s merely sleeping. After all, she’s been performing every night,_ , Peggy rationalized. 

Regardless, she was disappointed. With the Howling Commandos packing up camp in less than two hours, she wouldn’t have another opportunity to speak to Angie until they made camp again, and God only knew when that would be. 


End file.
